Hamartia
by SaiFy
Summary: Because in the end, her fatal flaw was living. Wasn't everybody's? Velsea. Rated T for now, will most likely become M.
1. Chapter 1

The steady, insistent beeping of the heart rate monitor was deafening in the otherwise silence of hospital room 207. The smell of death and futile, grasping, so called miracle drugs was overbearing and almost unbearable as she breathed in and out in steady rhythm. The sheets wrapped tightly around her legs, paper like in texture and sterile in scent, were like a straight jacket. The walls, the floors, everything was colored a painfully bright white; befitting of a place where people came to die.

_She reminded herself again that she was not dead, nor dying._

She was hyper aware of the presence next to her in the stiff leather hospital chair. Her mother certainly did play the part- back straight and stiff in a way that seemed attentive but really meant business, eyes feigning pain and worry, hands wringing together in what others would believe to be nervousness or fear when in reality it was anger. Her mother had been like this for a good hour solid, only ever speaking a word to her when someone was in earshot. Playing herself up as the scared, worried, loving mother she was not. A wolf donning a sheep's pelt.

Her gaze fell to the thick, beige, itchy bandages wrapped around her forearms from just above her wrists to her elbows. A few places on the bandages were stained a bloody red, vibrant and full of life in this room which was like a void of whiteness and impending, inescapable, suffocating fatality. The bandages wrapped tightly around her throat were surely also stained and dirtied with crimson red life water, as if to symbolize what almost was. Those bandages, to her, were a collar- tethering her to this world and everything that came along with existing in it.

_She reminded herself, yet again, that she was not dead, nor dying. But **oh, **how she wished it was so!_

Her mother breathed deeply, in through her nose, and exhaled an excessively loud sigh. Pushing the chair back away from her hospital bed her mother stood, a woolen grey petty coat dwarfing her small frame and grey designer boots with 6 inches of pure, unadulterated heel making her appear taller than she really was. Without so much as a single word her mother was gone, and she wondered unusually playfully to herself why her mother's plastic Barbie legs didn't squeak when they rubbed against one another.

Left alone in the solitude and silence of her hospital room, she could do nothing but turn and stare at the tall, full-bodied mirror that hung on the wall just beyond where her mother had previously been wasting oxygen on herself. She flinched as she took in her usually sleek, silky chestnut hair which was now greasy and dull and untamed. Her pale ivory skin had gotten even paler, like fresh untouched snow. Her ice blue eyes were uncaringly, unlovingly, unexistingly dim and dark. She looked pale enough to be taken away in a casket and lifeless enough to be buried six feet under. The thought didn't seem unappealing at all.

_She reminded herself again that she was not dead, nor dying. Despite her own efforts she lived and breathed and existed._

Resting back against the headboard of the crisp, neat, scratchy hospital bed, she finally allowed herself to relax and loosen. Her mother's random visit had set her on edge, and she hadn't been able to even think of sleep with her mother's cold, dead, malicious green eyes boring into her like laser beams. Now alone, just how she liked it, she relented herself to the nightmares that would be waiting for her just beyond consciousness. The dark bags under her eyes were not new nor surprising to her, a chronic insomniac, but she still silently agreed to herself that a little sleep now and then was what kept her sane enough to function.

As her eyes finally shut, a blissful feeling of relaxation over taking her, she smiled a dizzy smile to herself. Tomorrow was her discharge date. This meant many things, good and bad. The good news was that she was finally free of the sterile and robotic hospital. The bad news was that after her mother had found her half dead and very ready to cross that other half into actual death, she had immediately kicked her out and told her never to come back. And as neutral news, she had just enough money to buy a ferry ticket and have a few hundred G left over. She'd start over, a new life wherever the first ferry she got to was headed.

_She reminded herself for the last time before falling asleep that she was not physically dead, nor physically dying. And although inside she was very much post-mortem, perhaps a change of pace would be enough to kick start her still and unfeeling heart?_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, so this chapter is really short. The next ones will be muuuuch longer! This is sort of like a prolouge. **

_**(1) ha·mar·ti·a [ha-mahr-tee-uh]- tragic or fatal flaw**_


	2. Chapter 2

Dirty black combat boots clomped steadily against the cracking blacktop of the road as she walked with purpose towards her destination. Her dark jeans and baggy grey hoodie did wonders to keep the heat in and the cooling air of the fresh autumn out as it blew mercilessly against her skeletal, gaunt frame. With her hood up over her head so far it covered her eyes she blocked the tragic sight of the dying city from her view and focused solely ahead of her, forcing herself only to see the shifting waters of the sea as she made her way towards the docked ferry. In her jean pocket 1500G sat, heavy, reminding her of what it was she was about to do. Reminding her that she had only herself to worry about, now. Flashes of familiar faces filled her mind; Dr. Trent forcing a smile down at her with deep black orbs full of poorly hidden disappointment, her boyfriend Jet sneering at her with his beautiful tiger lily eyes lacking their usual warmth, her mother glaring into her back with hateful green orbs, and she felt even more compelled to escape the place she once considered a home. Surely nobody would miss her, now. Not after all that'd happened.

_Would they even have missed her before all that transpired?_

She soon reached her destination. The lone ferry sat idly in its port, bobbing on the occasional small wave that crashed into the shore and sharing in her oneness and solitude. It was befitting that only one ferry waited for her, as if to remind her that she was alone and there was no other way to leave than by herself. The light of the moon bounced merrily off the waves as if to tempt her closer; a temptation she indulged in as she made her way up the pier towards the man guarding the entrance to the passenger ferry. The sound of her boots echoed off of the side of the ferry, alerting the man to her approach, and he looked up from the clipboard he held with obvious surprise. She could only assume not many people boarded this ferry, especially at midnight on a Tuesday, and looking up onto the deck she could see she was correct. Only one figure stood on board the quiet little ferry; a tall person who she assumed to be male wearing a Stetson hat. She could identify nothing else about this character, as he was too far away and stood against the light of the full moon. She could tell that the man was looking at her, but his hat was pulled far over his eyes and provided just enough shadow cover to shield his face from her view.

She didn't let herself dwell on it much, instead refocusing herself towards the ferry attendant. Standing in front of him she could see his gaze was weary, perhaps believing her to be a street rat, but his gaze quickly warmed when she pulled the 1000G needed to pay for her ferry ticket out from her jean pocket. The man accepted her money readily and handed her a laminated paper ticket, a warm and inviting smile on his face and in his wide brown eyes. She didn't smile back.

"Thanks miss! My name is Darryl, and welcome aboard The Setting Sun! Our destination this eve-er, morning is Sunshine Islands, an archipelago about a 6 hours' sail from here. For security and tracking purposes I have to ask you your name and birthday, as well as your age and sex although that last one I already know." The man said in a rushed, sunny tune that made her want to growl in the back of her throat from annoyance. She refrained from being as rude as to growl at the man who had done nothing wrong, instead glaring down at her worn black boots and biting her cheek to calm her anger.

"Name's Chelsea Donovan. Birthday's Fall 3rd. I'm 17. As you can see I'm female. Can I go on board now?" she ground out in barely above a whisper, forcing herself to look up from her shoes as she finished. The man visibly flinched back at the dark look on her face and nodded quickly, looking away from her to jot down the information on his green clipboard and hastily stepping to the side so she could board the ferry. Smirking to herself, happy at the man's reaction, she made her way up the ramp and onto the small passenger ship. Looking down at the ticket she allowed herself to smile only briefly, as if to congratulate herself for following through with her plans, before making her way towards the deck of the ship.

As she walked out onto the deck the man from before tore his gaze from the sky looked at her for a moment before grunting and tipping his hat at her, as if to greet her. She only nodded back at him in response, walking to the other end of the deck and as far away from him as possible. The man's gaze seemed to linger on her only a moment longer, as if thinking of something, before he shook his head and tipped his face back up to gaze at the moon. She watched from the corner of her eye as the moon illuminated his once shadowed features, revealing silver white hair and a stern purple eyed glare. Briefly she recognized the look on his face, as it was one she wore herself quite often, but mostly she focused on his glittering amethyst orbs. Never had she seen such a lonely, deep, midnight purple color. It interested her in a way she didn't like.

_It interested her in the same way Jet's sunset orange eyes had, and look where that had gotten her?_

Quickly she tore her gaze from him and pulled her hoodie further over her face, tipping her head down to allow her hair to cover parts of her complexion her hood didn't reach. She dug her hands deep into her front jean pockets, her right hand clutching tightly on the silver chain necklace that resided there. The cool of the metal in her hands calmed her just a bit, reminding her to take deep breaths in and out. Slowly, as carefully as one would hold a kitten, she pulled the necklace out of her pocket to cradle it in her hands. The silver heart shaped locket felt lighter in her hands than a feather, almost liberatingly so. She traced her thumb over the sapphire gems that decorated the front of the pendant before snapping it open to reveal the picture inside. Her father's face smiled brightly back at her, all while holding the 4 year old version of herself in his arms tightly like a treasure he never wished to lose. As her eyes bore into his, although only paper, she could swear she felt the warmth and love that she had felt staring into the real pair so long ago. How long had it been since she'd seen those deep, happy, radiant blue eyes?

_If she remembered correctly, 10 years._

She bit back the tears that threatened to spring from her eyes and closed the locket gently, holding it tightly in her hand and allowing the cool metal to warm in her palm's embrace. 10 years. It had been ten years, going on 11 in the winter, since she had seen her father alive. It had been almost 11 years ago that he had died, and almost 11 years ago she remembered screaming her agony into her mother's embrace as her father was lowered into the ground. It had been 10 years since then; 10 years since her life changed and never went back to the way it was.

Biting her lip to contain the wail she felt fighting to escape her throat she brought the necklace around her neck, clasping it together behind her after a few failed attempts. Finally letting the silver go, marveling as it shimmered in the equally silver moonlight, she brought her arms around her torso and hugged herself tight. The weight of the necklace around her neck lightened the burden of the bandages that also lie there. No longer did they feel like a collar, but more like a reminder to herself of her own weakness. A testament to what almost was, and what almost occurred.

She could feel the man's gaze on her then, and turning to look him fully in the eyes she was surprised by the coldness she saw there. She had expected pity, sadness, maybe even disgust to be present in those lilac eyes after seeing her moment of weakness but instead he only fixed a calculating and cold look upon her before scoffing and looking down at his brown cowboy boots. She snorted at his reaction, glaring down at her own boots and releasing a bitter chuckle. Of all reactions she had received in her day, that was not one she had ever gotten. It made her want to laugh and cry and be angry all at once. She allowed herself the latter, being it that was the option she was most accustomed to. Glaring even more deeply, she tore her gaze away from her boots and instead glared out at the open sea. If she remembered correctly, her destination was a place called The Sunshine Islands. At that she snorted to herself.

_The Sunshine Islands, huh? What a saccharine name. It sounded like hell._


End file.
